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 Posted: Sun May 16, 2010 6:56 pm
The Kingdom of Landor once knew nothing but peace; it was a bountiful land, teeming with life and harmony. But that was long ago, when the Mendorian line ruled the land. Jealousy tore the great land asunder, whispers and rumors corrupted the hearts of many and a revolutionary group, known as the Ekkal, formed to overthrow the throne. On a dark night, known now as the Night of Swords, the Ekkal stormed the castle, killing all in their path. There were no survivors. Everyone within the fortress walls died that night, their blood painting the great stone walls scarlet, their screams echoing through the halls. Even the king's personal guards, the Karrik themselves, could not stop the raging swarm. Once blood flooded the dark halls, the Ekkal set fire to the once great monument, scorching the brilliant stones.
Today the land is in chaos, civil war spreading to the far edges of the oceans. The crumbling ruins of Ach Castle lay where peace once stood, watched over by the descendants of the few Karrik who had escaped the bloody slaughter of that night. Rumors whispered across the land of a surviving heir of the Mendorian line have sparked a resistance to the Ekkal. The Scelars. These are the many who wish to see the old regime return and the land's balance returned. Only one hope remains for the crumbling shell of a fortress and the dying land in its shadow: the Rakkik, the forgotten heir.
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Posted: Sun May 16, 2010 7:12 pm
Sarla's silver scales shimmered in the sunlight as she glided over the forest towards the castle, her large wings slicing through the air. She flew high above the other creatures that shared her skies, relishing the sharp, cold wind. She enjoyed the freedom that comes with flying and took every opportunity to savor it. The feeling of the chilling currents of air against her scales and over her face made her heart race and filled her veins with sweet adrenaline. Her eyes sharpened and she quickened her pace, pumping ever harder with her giant wings to climb as high as she could. Her lungs fought for oxygen in the thin atmosphere and she felt her vision fade. Her body was made for extreme heights, but even she had her limits. As her mind began to blur she slammed her wings against her sides, pulling them in as much as her strong muscles would allow. Turning downwards sharply, she dove back towards earth at dangerous speeds. She kept her dive slightly horizontal, just enough to make her destination as she fell, twisting and turning as the air and gravity threw her towards the rocky fields below.
A great stone castle came into view as she descended below the clouds and hurtled towards her. She spotted a familiar figure standing on a balcony and aimed for its feet. At the last minute, she snapped her wings to their fullest, catching the wind and slowing down sharply. Her claws gripped the stone and her wings beat repeatedly to maintain her balance before folding calmly to her sides.
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Posted: Tue Jun 22, 2010 1:24 am
Zadie looked up jealously from her perch in the forest. Although she had the freedom to change her scale color, a feat of legend for a half-dragon, metallic shades were past her ability. Furthermore, with her short, broad wings, flying was nearly painful for her. She wasn't a majestically large dragon, either. In fact, as a dragon, she was probably more of the size of a small donkey. But she had something most others didn't, besides her unique scales.
She slipped silently down from her branch, her short forelegs gripping the bark while her hind legs stretched down neatly to the previous branch, repeating the steps all the way down the tree. Meandering through the underbrush, she chanced upon a neat little clearing, sunlight filtering through from above. From the one side Zadie could see the castle, although doing so left her bitter and angry. She stuck to the opposite side, lounging in the shadows of the trees.
A butterfly floated past, phasing through Zadie's forked-ish tongue like a ghost. Zadie grinned to herself. Illusions were her skill, and one could definitely say that not many could spin ones as skillfully as hers.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 3:23 am
Sarla bent her head in respect to the robed figure before her, "What do you need, Wise One?"
"It is time. The Guardian wishes to see you." The robed figure turned swiftly, assuming the dragon would follow without even glancing over his shoulder. Without a word, Sarla glided into her human form and followed the aging man into the depths of the ancient castle. Her eyes glowed silver for a moment as they adjusted to the dark interior. The man led her to a chamber in the center of the castle, the old throne room. Standing before the empty throne, an even older man stood, flanked by two heavily armed, middle-aged men: bodyguards.
"What is your request?" Sarla bent her head in respect to the ancient man, not looking up.
"You are to go into the city of Skatelle and search there for the Rakkik."
Startled, Sarla jerked upright, "But sir! If-" she stopped short at the man's upheld hand, signalling silence, and bowed her head once more.
"We have recieved word that he is there. Fret not, my child, you will not go unaccompanied. You and another of the Karrik lineage will escort the Scelar who brought us this information back to Skatelle and bring the one believed to be the Rakkik safely back to us where we can test his identity and restore him to his rightful throne. Do you believe you can handle this mission?" The man eyed her after seeing her hesitation, "I had thought you of all people wouldn't back down from such a minute challenge, but if you can't handle it, I guess I'll just have to find someon-"
"No! I-I mean... Whatever you command."
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Posted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 9:57 pm
Leather riding boots passed from one end of the stone room to the other, wearing a rut into the priceless Kem'ian carpet that dressed the floor. The walls were draped with equally expensive tapestries of the kind that only the wealthiest could afford. It was sickening the amount of colour and pattern in the small set of rooms. Why must people surround them selves in such MESS! The thick fabrics and the unnaturally bright colour of the wood work made the walls even more oppressive then if they had been left as bare stone. At least then the room would have resembled a cave, even if it was very boxy one.
The sleeping chamber was dominated by the massive bed made with red oak, polished to a blinding sheen. It was piled high with feather pillows wrapped in embroidered cases of violet silk, and furs of every rare and exotic animal that came to mind and several more that didn't. To crown the room was a canopy of velvet drapes in the muddiest golden colour imaginable. The washing room was hardly any better, and even smaller.
This front sitting room looked like it should be filled with women in clothing that did nothing to actually conceal the bodies beneath giggling and flirting with men who should have been elsewhere. But it wasn't the blood red lounge and couches were empty and the only sound in the room was the soft thud of booted feet moving back and forth across the room on thick carpets.
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Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2010 8:42 am
From the depths of the darkest Ekkal prison, a mournful song stirred the silence which lay as thick and heavy as the iron chains binding each prisoner to their metal and stone graves:
"You're a dead man walking,
A dead man, walking.
You'd best prepare yourself,
For you're about to diiie!"
This song echoed from the darkest cell, towards a passing guard. Torchlight from the armored hands of the patrol slipped into the cell, glinting silver off of cold eyes in the shadows. A haunted laugh chilled the blood of the guards, dancing on the echoes of the song.
Sometime that night, the guard drew his last breath, his eyes glassing over as the last vision he saw was cold silver eyes cutting into his soul. That morning fear spread through the prison and everyone passing before the cell trembled in fear, other prisoners threw fits of panic and crying as the guards dragged them past the cell. The dark cell was given wide berth, but no sound came from it. No one dared check to see if the prisoner was still there, but after a time the song rang out again and the steely glint shown from the corner,
"You're a dead man walking,
A dead man walking.
You'd best prepare yourself,
For you're about to diiie!"
The guard to whom this song was directed never passed by the cell again, but still the song echoed through the stone passageways, haunting his every thought:
"He's a dead man walking,
A dead man walking.
He'd best prepare himself,
For he's about to diiie!"
From the dark corner of the cell, Reaper chuckled. The old man had only said she had to wait here; he didn't say she couldn't have a little fun during her stay!
[[In answer to your question, Coraley, yes, I did decide to toss Reaper in here rofl]]
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Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 10:43 pm
Zadie stood, stomach growling.
"No deer in this damn forest. I suppose I shall have to go to town and buy something to eat." she muttered to her shadow, receiving no response. She shifted into that most annoying form, human, and headed back out of the forest. As she transformed, a simple forest green dress appeared, covering her up neatly.
This far away from shore, no one would ever think that the most hunted after dragoness of all the seas and oceans would take the guise of a simple peasant girl to obtain some fish and bread. If all went well, no one would even know she had been there at all...
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Posted: Mon Aug 09, 2010 7:16 pm
Sarla found herself in human form walking down the dusty road of a nearby town. It was market day, so the road was lined with the carts and stalls of local merchants. A bright gleam from a stand on her right caught her eye and her eyes changed for a moment to her dragon form's. Gold. The weakness of all dragons, treasure. "Eh, I'm stuck here waiting anyway, what's the harm of looking?" She wandered over to the merchant's cart, where various necklaces, earings, and other trinkets lay on the soft fur covering the wood table. The man behind the counter was very proud of his wares and quoted her highly inflated prices for his shimmering inventory. He saw the look and desire in her eyes and his in turn shone with the greedy hunger of a wolf eying a field of plump sheep. But she was strong and deciplined, and found it rather easy to decline his insistant discounting. 'How long are they going to be? The Guardian wasn't very clear on who was to meet me here, in fact he never even said if they knew I would be here... I just hope someone shows up and soon!' She always found her human form stifling, and market day in any town was always crowded, so she felt rather trapped and claustrophobic. She longed to spread her wings and feel the cool air against her sides and face. That was where she belonged, not here.
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Posted: Tue Aug 10, 2010 11:21 am
The sound of impatient foot steps form the other side of the door stopped and a fist began thumping on the door. "How long are you going to keep me here?" asked a young voice. The guards an either side of the door looked at each other, maintaining their silence the shorter of the two shrugged and then straitened his pristine black and red uniform. "I know you're out there!" the voice called again. The thumping stopped as the sound of the young woman pulling on the locked door latch began. "let me out of here!" cried the voice' "What do you want from me?" The hand of the second guard flew form his weapon to land on the door with a heavy thump. Smiling he placed his hand back on his hilt. The yelling had stopped.
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Posted: Tue Aug 10, 2010 3:11 pm
Patiently, Reaper waited for nightfall, when she would pay a visit to her latest victim. A curious sound made her ears twitch, and she moved her haunting gaze to the passageway outside her cell. Someone was whistling the tune she had been singing... Curiousity got he best of her and she approached the entrance to her cell. She caught another sound accompanying the whistling, the slight jingle of bells? As the source of these sounds turned the corner and passed in front of a torch, Reaper spied a rather curious man, sporting a bright red shirt, colorfully patched pants and leather boots that came up to his knees. Attached to the heel of each boot was a pair of small bells, which jingled with each step. He sauntered up to her cell, stopping with his nose centimeters away from hers. "So, my love, what brings you to this humble abode?" He bore a bright blue mark on the left side of his face, some unknown symbol that reached from above his eyebrow, over his eyelid, and down his cheek to the bottom of his jaw. Eying him suspiciously, Reaper replied gruffly, "Death's lullaby is no child's tune to be tossed about frivilously."
"Calm your horses, the old guy sent me! Said I'm to get you, go upstairs, and pick up some other chick. Hopefully she'll be more appreciative..." He muttered this last part under his breath, "So, if you'll be so kind as to move out of the way, I'll have you out of this lovely little cell in a moment!"
Reaper rolled her silver eyes and gave a light tap at the large metal door, which swinged open on its hinges as though it were a gentleman moving from a royal lady's path. She brushed by the man's wide eyes and strolled down the hall, "Are you coming or not? Death waits for no man."
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Posted: Tue Aug 10, 2010 4:16 pm
The girl sat on the appalling red chair, silent tears dripping slowly down her face. She held her hands in her lap as the maid pulled a comb painfully threw her hair. They were chained, and had been almost from the moment the guards opened the door. She'd been unbound only long enough for her to change into the sapphire gown she wore now. Her own clothing had disappeared threw the door before she was finished dressing. Only her boots remained, none of the slippers the maids brought would fit. So she wore her boots beneath the gown. They had even taken the ribbon that had tied her brade. Looking up as she wiped the tears from her cheeks she saw the reflection of a girl she didn't know. The tears began again and she turned away from the mirror. She didn't speak. She didn't want another bruise to match the one to match the swelling on her jaw from when she had asked what they wanted when the door had opened. Silence was better then pain.
The maid pulled sharply on her hair, making the girl release a startled gasp. After placing several jeweled bone pins into her hair the maid stepped back, satisfied that the ornate arrangement of curls wouldn't fall out the maid left the room without a word. The guards fallowed closing the door. The girl flinched hearing the lock catch. A tear landed silently on the chains around her wrists.
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Posted: Tue Aug 10, 2010 6:29 pm
The pair made their way upstairs, dodging guards, much to the disappointment of Reaper. She wanted nothing to do with this oddly colorful man, she didn't need help! She was only there following orders, and here this guy comes sauntering in, thinking he's rescuing her and expecting her to worship his feet! If only he was an Ekkal, then she could watch his bright eyes fade as his very life bled from him... Slowly, they made their way to the chamber. 'Maybe this damsel will actually be in distress. That will surely brighten his day.'
Danalyn was actually a little disappointed that Reaper had not met him with the excitement that ran through his head every step of the way to rescue her. He had imagined how greatful she would be to be saved from such a dismal place and how she would swear her life to him and cater to his every need! But no, the old man just HAD to have sent him to go get the only person in the whole place who didn't even NEED to be saved! Of course he had to get stuck with the only person who wouldn't want rescued from such a death-filled sewer! Welll, there was one more lady to be rescued! This one was sure to want to be saved! Besides, what were the chances of TWO women enjoying themselves in this place?
---
Danalyn, stopped at the corner of the hall the room was on. Holding up one hand, he crouched down to wait for Reaper to catch up. She seemed to be taking quite a while, so he chanced a look behind him. The hallway was empty. Confused, he looked around, searching for the woman he had thought to be right behind him. "Are you coming or not?!" Startled, he peered around the corner to find Reaper standing over the unconcious guards. "Death is no patient creature!" Glancing to either side to make sure no guards had been alerted or happened to be patrolling, he silently padded over to her. Gingerly he stepped over the bodies, unsure whether it was just the light playing tricks on him or if that was a pool of blood under that one... "Where did you go?! You were supposed to stay with me!"
"I had a little...unfinished business to attend to, and I decided I might as well introduce these poor souls to Death as well. Pity they didn't survive the encounter... Oh, and I wouldn't worry about that patrol... or any other guards for that matter... Death's blade has quite an unsatiable thirst..." She wiped her blade off on the shirt of one of the fallen men before using it to gesture towards the door. "Figured I'd leave this lock to you."
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Posted: Tue Aug 10, 2010 7:54 pm
The chains chimed as the girl lifted her hand to dry her cheek. Were those voices on the other side of the door. Looking towards the door she saw shadows moving underneath. Slowly a red pool slid under the edge of the door. Is that blood?
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Posted: Tue Aug 10, 2010 8:05 pm
"Look! The old guy said I was to come rescue YOU! I don't need your help! Now stand back while I open this door, there's no telling what's inside!" To say Danalyn was irritated would be an understatement. Who did this woman think she was, running off?! She could have gotten herself killed! She could have alerted the guards and gotten them both killed! 'At least this woman shouldn't be half as annoying...' He glared at Reaper until she backed away from the door, bowing mockingly. Her eyes scared him. The way the torchlight glinted off of them, the way they seemed to press into his very soul... He shivered for a second to clear his head and turned back to the door. He pulled out his lockpick set and after a few moments of fumbling, every few minutes Reaper chuckling under her breath and shaking her head at how long it was taking him, he finally heard the click that meant success and stood to open the door. Drawing his sword in case of danger, he swung the door open.
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Posted: Tue Aug 10, 2010 8:28 pm
The girl froze when she heard the lock click. As the door swung into the room she saw that the man on the other side held a sward in his hand, ready to fight. Her face paled. They had sent someone to kill her! Jumping to her feet, she tried to run, but tripped over the extra length of the unfamiliar gown.
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